


whatever a moon has always meant

by jehancourf



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Grindr (Hookup App), M/M, Pining, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4892410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehancourf/pseuds/jehancourf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan Prouvaire is many things, and it’s safe enough to say that Courfeyrac knows a lot of those things. </p><p>(In which Courfeyrac falls in love with Jehan, with help from their Grindr profile.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	whatever a moon has always meant

**Author's Note:**

> some pure unadulterated fluff that no one asked for  
> title cred to e e cummings, of course

Jehan Prouvaire is many things, and it’s safe enough to say that Courfeyrac knows a lot of those things.

He knows the basic details, at least. The ones on Jehan’s Tinder and Grindr bios. (He pretended not to be upset when he found that, despite not having any other active social media, they’re fairly active on hookup apps. At least until the surge of pride that came with matching 89% with them.) He practically has their basic info memorized.

19 y/o demigirl (they/them) Aquarius  
“(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)“

And then quite a few flower emojis. If he had to base all of the knowledge he has gathered about Jehan solely on their Grindr bio, he could deduct that they are two years younger than him and that they are not cis, and at first glance that’s about it. He knows jack shit about astrology and quite frankly doesn’t care a lick about what a bunch of stars have to say about his life. Sure, it’s interesting to think about, but not something he really puts his faith in. (He thinks he’s a pisces? The fish one, that’s it.)

Jehan, however, clearly does, so when he first saw their Grindr, he was up late finding out everything he could about their sign, and in the morning he had a long list of possible conversation starters, featuring such classics as: “I bought a couple interesting succulents the other day.” and “Have you ever tried painting with candle wax?” He spent the day watching TED talks by conspiracy theorists and documentaries about different kinds of rare plants, and he even wore a t shirt with Bill Nye the Science Guy on it to the next meeting. And when he said hello by way of asking what they thought aliens dreamt about, they smiled so beautifully and so brightly that it was totally worth the trouble.

Courfeyrac could also tell, simply from viewing their Grindr bio and doing a quick google search, than Jehan is into poetry. This is, of course, common knowledge, as anyone who knows Jehan knows that poetry flows through their veins and out of their mouth in the guise of conversation, but he could tell by the aforementioned quote that Jehan liked the poet E. E. Cummings. Or at the very least, that particular work of his. So, Courfeyrac, of course, read the length of his Wikipedia article and left the local library with quite a few of his poetry books. He was delighted to find that Cummings even had a PBS documentary, so he let that play quietly on his laptop while he made a valiant attempt at memorizing some simple poems.

They next time they met was coincidentally at the next meeting, and Jehan was curled up against Grantaire’s side with a journal in their lap, which would have made Courfeyrac jealous, had Grantaire not been staring adoringly at an unbothered Enjolras. He sat right next to the pair of them, which had been incredibly distracting on his part, because he kept stealing glances at Jehan. He had been close enough to count their freckles.

When the meeting was through, he started another conversation with them (”Animals with two heads probably don’t even get embarrassed when the other one sees it’s girlfriend.”) and between marveling at their little giggles he managed to let a few verses slip. Nothing too flamboyant, just the subtle dropping of words, but Jehan lit up like a Christmas tree.

“E. E. Cummings!” They had exclaimed, reaching out to gently grip his arm. Courfeyrac stared at their hand for longer than he’d have liked to admit. “You like E. E. Cummings?”

And God, they looked so excited and so innocent that Courfeyrac was genuinely happy that he could honestly say yes, he did.

Jehan is a lot more than just their Grindr bio, though, of course. Their bio alone couldn’t tell him what their profile pictures could. They photograph nicely, and the camera quality tells him that they probably bought it at a thrift store or a yard sale. The grainy texture compliments their features, making the dark of their pupils and their freckles and the roots of their pale pink hair darker, and the lights of their cheekbones and their grey eyes and the shine of their lips lighter. They are smiling in their default photo, toothy and sweet, bundled up in a brightly-colored coat and hat set, face pink from the cold.

The photo also, of course, tells him exactly how beautiful they are. It can’t capture the stumble in their step or the dreamy softness of their voice, and it can’t capture the feel of their gentle touch, and it doesn’t even tell him how tiny they are or the fragility of their thin fingers, and it can’t begin to touch on their terrible fashion sense and it doesn’t even know that they always smell like flowers or weed depending on the time of day or that they call everyone pet names like darling or sweetheart or lovely. But he knows what the photo doesn’t, that these are all very real parts of the person in it.

He has the photo saved as his phone background. Occasionally, he’ll open his phone just to look at their smile, perhaps to remind himself that Jehan is, in fact, real.

It’s a viable worry. Aside from what he’s learned from their Grindr, all he knows about Jehan, he knows from feeling, or rather, how they make him feel. He figures it’s probably obvious that he’s in love with them, but he isn’t sure what to do about it. Courfeyrac has known since the age of 14 how to talk to people, how to be charming and eventually how to be sexy, but he’s never dealt with someone like Jehan. He can ask them about vampires and research poets for them all he wants, but it means nothing if he only gets to see them once a week.

So, instead of staying up late to learn, he stays up to plan.

He does his best to look incredible for the next meeting, putting way too much product in his hair and wearing the tightest pair of jeans his (fabulous, perky) ass will allow. He’s pulling out all the stops, and he’s sure, by the time he arrives, that if his skin were lighter (thank melanin God) that he would be as red as a tomato. Jehan is sitting alone today, and he would almost feel bad for them, if it weren’t so convenient for him. They smile at him when he sits down beside them, as if they’re waiting on another oddball conversation starter.

“Did you know,” Courfeyrac starts, dropping his voice to a whisper. His heart flip flops at the way Jehan leans in to listen, interested. “that I truly adore you?”

Jehan blinks at him, turning a brilliant scarlet. After a moment, though, they laugh, the sound of bells filling the entire room. Courfeyrac is enamored.

“Obviously.” They whisper back conspiratorially, despite having the entire room’s attention. “You aren’t subtle, Courfeyrac, darling.”

The smile on their face confuses him, but, being Courfeyrac, he smiles back anyway, trying not to think about what their words might mean.

“Do you mind too terribly?” He asks, quite poetically, apparently, because if anything, it makes Jehan laugh again, covering their mouth with one hand. It’s a shame, Courfeyrac thinks, because he can’t see their lips. They are still bright red.

They look back up at him with big eyes through heavy lidded lashes, and he would do everything and anything they ever ask. He would follow them to the ends of the earth. Their eyes are moons and he is weak to their resolve. They smile at him.

“You didn’t have to learn for me, Courfeyrac.” Jehan whispers, leaning in, and of course they knew, he isn’t even surprised, not really. There’s so much about them that he doesn’t know, so much that he still has to learn, if they’ll allow it. He is too weak to protest, but if he could, he would say that he did it because he wanted to. He wanted to become someone they could love-- “I love you just the way you are.”

Courfeyrac gapes at them, which only serves to make them laugh again. This time, though, they laugh together.

Jehan Prouvaire is many things, and it’s safe enough to say that Courfeyrac knows a lot of those things, but he still has a lot to learn, like whether or not they want to be called his girlfriend, and how they look in his clothes, and if they like to spoon or use his chest as a pillow. But, he has all the time in the world, and he thinks, for now at least, he’s happy to learn that they’re a fantastic kisser.


End file.
